Better than the real thing

“Give me one more chance

And you’ll be satisfied

Give me two more chances

You won’t be denied…”

– ‘Even Better Than The Real Thing’ by U2 (1991)

When a work colleague sent me an email asking if I would like her to do a portrait of Waffle, at first, admittedly, I was in two minds.

I have tonnes of photos of the hound, of course, as I have to take a new one each week to accompany the garbled mess you are currently reading. But a portrait? Photos are ubiquitous – disposable even – but a portrait would be permanent. Would I like to have a framed image of the hairy fool hanging over my bed or in the living room, looking down at me in perpetuity with his hang- dog eyes? I suppose it would be preferable to having him stuffed and set by the hearth, when he eventually pops his hair clogs.

Still in two minds, I was pondering the idea – gestating the concept – when my mouth got the better of me at the dinner table that night.

“A lady at work has offered to do a portrait of Waffle,” my mouth said, preempting more careful instructions from my brain.

“Brilliant!”

“You have to say yes!”

“Waffle, do you hear that? You’re going to be immortalised in paint.”

Thus, remaining in two minds was no longer an option.

The next course of action was to have a picture chosen so that Rachel the artist might complete the portrait.

“Send me through a few photos,” Rachel said. “Ones where you can see his eyes.”

Surprisingly, this was more of a challenge than I had anticipated. As you’ll no doubt have noticed over time, Waffle is VERY hairy and unless he’s had a recent haircut and unless the light is right, the photos don’t always show up his hazel-brown peepers.

Once again, my mouth lost the run of itself prior to pre-agreed instructions from my brain.

“Rachel has asked for a couple of photos of Waffle and she’ll pick one to use as the basis of the portrait,” my vigilante mouth said later in the evening. There followed a veritable melee whereby the little humans bombarded my Whatsapp with photos of the hairy fiend. ‘A few’ photos turned into 109 (Whatsapp counted them). I then took the executive decision to pick out my own photos and say nothing more about the portrait until such times as it was finished.

As you can see from this week’s photo, the portrait was indeed finished and I had to hand it to Rachel, she brilliantly captured the very essence of the hound, even the hint of mischief in his hazels.

Now if you can imagine the excitement at home at the prospect of having a portrait done, the day I landed home with it, people were veritably faint with delight.

“OMG-that’s-so-class!”

“Where-are-we-gonna-hang-it?”

As of this time of writing, we are still undecided as to which wall in the house will have the honour – although hung, it will eventually be.

However, on the evening I brought it home and after the little humans had hit the hay for the night, I placed the portrait on the mantelpiece and then sat on my favourite armchair. I regarded the portrait with objective eyes, as the actual living model snored in front of the fire, twitching from time to time in his dreams. Then he passed wind. I could tell this had happed, not from any parping blast (he always manages to achieve the silent but deadly variety) but because the stench soon reached my nostrils like a wind from hell. I thus came to a swift conclusion…

Portrait Waffle might be even better than the real thing.